


You Could Be My Quiet Life

by StrawberryLane



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: All the cakes, Bucharest, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky's life, Café, Domestic, Food, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, POV Bucky Barnes, Slice of Life, just mentioned, nothing graphic though, romania - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:51:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7056964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryLane/pseuds/StrawberryLane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's face down inside the dumpster, picking out a loaf of bread with sunflower seeds on top and chocolate cake with coffee flavored buttery goodness on top in his mouth, when there's a voice beside him.</p><p>"Hey kid, what're you doing?" </p><p>Bucky drops the loaf in surprise because he hasn't heard any footfalls nor the sound of any doors opening. He straightens his back, stands up so that half his body isn't inside the dumpster, prepares for a fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Could Be My Quiet Life

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! :) At the end of this story, there are a few spoilers for CACW and Bucky's life in current time, in case you haven't seen Civil War yet. This is a story about Bucky's life between the end of CATWS and the beginning of CACW, meaning he lives where he lives when CACW begins. 
> 
> A few things I also feel I should mention: I didn't use the archive warnings, because it's nothing graphic, but I still think I should tell you that there are (small) mentions of suicide, rape and domestic violence in this fic. Nothing graphic, but I figured it'd be best if I warned you, just in case. 
> 
> Another thing, I've tried to use two or three Romanian phrases and words in this. I used google to help me, so it's entirely possible I've said something completely different than what I wanted to. I do apologize if that's what has happened. 
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Romania, Bucharest, was a random choice. He'd gone to Spain first, after DC. But, feeling eyes on him everywhere, he'd packed his backpack in the middle of the night and left. Italy next, Milan. Copenhagen, Paris, Vienna. All big cities with many anonymous faces. But he always felt watched, like he should move on before it was too late. So he had closed his eyes and gone to the first place his finger landed on on the map.

Bucky meets old Yo, Yolanda, shortly after he arrives in Bucharest and has set up his safe house. He wanders around the streets, making sure he knows where to go should someone come looking for him. Up that street, but not down that alley because that doesn't lead anywhere. Over the square and into the church is fine. You can hide in the church and there's more than one exit. One last exit, high up, should it be needed. He doesn't even know if it that would work, but he wants to have that choice, should it come to that.

He's hungry, he realizes after a while. He's gotten better at identifying his body's signals. Now he knows what hunger and sleep deprivation feels like. What hurt feels like. Exhaustion.

He eats what he can find, wherever he can find it. He has money, can buy things with it, but sometimes he doesn't. Paying with money makes you memorable, in this day and age when everyone pays for things with plastic cards. He spent a week in Cannes, only eating things he found in dumpsters behind restaurants, most of them perfectly edible. He's done it in other cities too, eaten things he's found in the dumpsters behind cafés and supermarkets. Some guy he met in Madrid had called it dumpster diving.

There's a small café a couple of streets from the church, light glowing through the windows invitingly. But he doesn't go inside, goes around the building instead and, just like he figured, there's a dumpster and not another person in sight.

He's face down inside the dumpster, picking out a loaf of bread with sunflower seeds on top and chocolate cake with coffee flavored buttery goodness on top in his mouth, when there's a voice beside him.

"Hey kid, what're you doing?"

Bucky drops the loaf in surprise because he hasn't heard any footfalls nor the sound of any doors opening. He straightens his back, stands up so that half his body isn't inside the dumpster, prepares for a fight. He still has cake in his mouth. He swallows it down, clearing his throat.

The voice turns out to belong to a little old black lady. She's standing on the steps leading to the backdoor of the café, hands on her hips.

"Eating?" His voice feels rough, unused, but he's fairly certain he spoke in the right language, so that's something at least.

"There something wrong with actually paying for food, like everybody else?" Her accent sounds broken, like she's from somewhere else, but who is he to judge? He's from somewhere else too. He's from another time, even.

"N...No," Bucky could knock this old lady out with his pinky finger, but instead he's standing there, shame coming over him, like he's a child caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Do you have any money?"

He nods. "A little," no need to tell her exactly how much.

"You know what? You look like you're gonna fall over of exhaustion any minute, so why don't you come inside and I'll give you a discount."

"I... I shouldn't really..."

"Nonsense. Get in here now, let's get something fresh and warm into that body of yours. Today's special is Ciorbă de praz," the lady turns her back on him and walks inside, the bowl of slightly stale bread she'd probably been about to throw away when she discovered him forgotten on the steps. While she's busy with the door, he sneaks a few of the slices into his backpack, to save for later.

"Well, come on then," she says, sounding slightly impatient as she holds the door open for him.

"I'm Yolanda, but most people just call me old Yo," she informs him as they pass through the kitchen where a young girl and a slightly younger boy are both standing, decorating a cake that looks like something out of Bucky's best dreams. There's cream and fruit and jam and all sorts of sweet things and it makes his mouth water.

"This is Andrea and Marius, my grandchildren," Yolanda says, "What's your name?"

"J...James," he stutters, hoping she'll accept his unease at saying his own name that both is and isn't his and move on. "James? Any chance you're american?" she says, in english this time.

"Uhm...Yes," he probably shouldn't be telling her this, she could be Hydra, for all he knows.

"So am I actually. Grew up in New York, moved to Los Angeles in my twenties and then here a couple of decades later," she shows him a table to sit down at. The café is small and cosy and there's not a lot of people there, this late in the evening. A few kids, looking like they're studying for something at school, an old man drinking coffee, a couple with eyes for no one but each other, sharing a piece of the same type of chocolate cake he found in the dumpster.

"So, what can I get you? Some leek soup? Some of that cake I caught you stuffing your mouth with out back?" Yolanda smiles at him, eyes glittering.

"Soup would be...good. And cake, thank you," he looks around, not meeting her gaze. There's music coming from the kitchen. Yolanda nods, already retreating.

Bucky places his backpack on the floor between his feet. He takes of the cap he's wearing and his jacket, because it seems to be the polite thing to do. Keeps his left glove on, just in case. If he has to, he can snatch up his backpack and run, leave his jacket and cap behind. Those are replaceable. His notebooks are not.

Is it rude to change seats? He feels exposed, like he's out in the open for anyone to take a shot at, if they so desire. Yolanda gave him a seat close to the wall, but not close enough. At least he's not by the windows, like the old man. He doesn't have time to decide what he should do because she's back, carrying a bowl of soup, a bottle of water, a glass and a small basket of bread. He squints at the bottle. It's one of those sealed plastic ones, so at least she would have had trouble slipping some kind of poison or drug into it. The soup, though, that's another story. The soup would be easy to slip a drug into.

"The bread and water is on the house, so you don't have to pay for those," she says as she puts everything down in front of him, "I'll be right back with coffee and cake."

Once she has left him alone, or as alone he can be with six other people in this room, he tastes the soup, carefully. It's hot, tasting of potatoes and leek and heavy cream. It doesn't taste drugged, and he soon finds that he is scraping the bottom of the bowl and has, successfully, inhaled the whole thing in a matter of minutes.

He has eaten almost everything in the bread basket and drank the whole bottle of water by the time Yolanda returns with a big piece of the delicious cake with heavenly coffee butter thing on top and a big cup of coffee.

"Already done? That was fast! I made you an extra big cup of coffee, cause honestly? You look like you could use it," she puts it down in front of him, just as the lovesick couple from three tables over both stand up and walks over the cash register. Bucky jumps as Yolanda calls "Be right there," to them in romanian.

"Sorry," she says, turning her attention back to him, "You're a jumpy one, aren't you? Didn't mean to startle you," with that she walks over the floor, to where the couple are standing, waiting. He feels foolish. He's not supposed to be scared and jump out of his seat when little old ladies decide to yell to someone else over his head.

He eats the cake slowly, with care. He wants to savor it, because if he thought the old one out in the dumpster was good, this one is pure paradise. By the time he finishes drinking his coffee, there's no more music from the kitchen, the kids have left and the old man is on his way out the door. He lifts his hat towards Yolanda as if saying goodbye and thank you, as he exits. Bucky puts on his jacket and his cap, grabbing his backpack and pushes back from the table, making sure he hasn't left any food or drink behind.

"Sorry," he says when he reaches the counter, "I don't think I've got enough money."

"That's all right. You only gotta pay for the soup and the cake anyway, and I told you I'd give you a discount, didn't I?"

He nods. He mostly has coins with him, because he wasn't actually planning on paying for anything, and he doesn't want to give her any indication of how much money he actually has. Not that it's a lot, but it's private and the information belongs to him. And the hydra base he stole it from, but that's another story.

He presents her with half of the coins he has, and she accepts them. Shakes her head and gives them back to him.

"Do you have a job?"

He shakes his head. No, he doesn't.

"You know what? You look like you've got some muscle on you, kid. What do you say you pay me for this meal and future ones by helping out around the café? Lift heavy things and so on? Scare away those loitering teenage boys who thinks it's funny to harass my darling little granddaughter?"

It's a bad idea. A very bad idea. But he's tired of running. So, so tired. And he likes Yolanda. And he likes the food. Of course the thought of paying for anything with his body is a bit...jarring. He thinks she doesn't mean it like that, though. He just have to help out and he gets food in return. Sounds okay to him.

"As long as I don't have to actually hurt anyone, sure."

"No no. No physical harm will come to anyone. I just mean you can glare at them until they go away. I've tried to, but apparently not a lot of them are afraid of an old lady, sadly enough," she smiles, like it's funny. He smiles back.

"You've got some place to sleep?" She asks him when he has thanked her for the food ("Only doing my job") and is about to leave. He nods. "Good. I'll see you tomorrow then. If you can be here by four that'll be great. Andrea's school's out by half past three so she's usually shows up around four and all those boys follow her here because they've got nothing better to do."

*

He eats the stale bread Yolanda was about to throw away when she found him in the dumpster the night before for breakfast. It's a bit dry and certainly hasn't benefited from being inside his backpack all night, but he had forgotten to move it once he came back to his apartment. For the first time in a while he had felt warm enough, safe enough and sleepy enough to sleep through the entire night, without his nightmares waking him up like they do most of the time. His memory has begun to come back to him, so much that he knows that the man he pulled out of the river, Captain America, Steve Rogers wasn't lying when he said they were best friends and his name was James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky for short. The museum told the same story, so he's inclined to believe them, because it seems slightly crazy that Rogers would tell him a fake story about the two of them when there's a museum showing an exhibit about that exact thing. Besides, he remembers the Howling Commandos, and they were talked about at the museum too.

But remembering Steve and the Howling Commandos and his childhood and the war means he remembers his victims and what Hydra did to him. What they made him do. And those are the things that show up in his dreams, his nightmares. People he has murdered come back to life during the night, swear they'll have their revenge on him. Beg for their lives. Beg for their childrens lives. For their wives, their husbands. Usually he wakes up in the dark, crying and screaming and once he calms down he'll spend the rest of the night looking for ghosts. Logically he knows that the dead are dead and will never walk this earth again, but he can't stop himself from looking for them. He sees the woman in the white dress he drowned in her own bathtub, he sees the politician he stabbed to death in the man's kitchen (a burglary gone wrong, the papers said). He sees the little girl that shouldn't have died, but whose father was cowardly enough to use his own flesh and blood as a shield from the Winter Soldier's bullets. Out of all of them, that one hurts the most. The man died a slow death though, so hopefully that's enough in God's eyes for Bucky to redeem himself.

He's read old articles about all of them. Anything he could get his hands on. The girl was only seven years old. Her name was Chloe, and they buried her next to her father. Bucky left a bouquet of marigolds and white Star-of-Bethlehem on her grave and spat on her father's before he fled to Madrid. The man at the place where he bought the flowers told him marigolds meant grief and mourning and Star-of-Bethlehem meant things like innocence and forgiveness and hope. He hopes she likes them, wherever she is.

*

Andrea is 18 years old and beautiful. The kind of gorgeous that will put you on the covers of the magazines he sees every time he as much as enters a supermarket or convenience store. And she has admirers, boys and grown men who can't take a hint. She doesn't answer their catcalls, ignores them and they still continue. Bucky may have been frozen and brainwashed for the last 70 odd years, but he hopes he didn't act like these men do, even back before everything. It's one of those things he can't remember if he did or not and he hopes that means he didn't. He knows Steve didn't. He knows that Steve always was the perfect gentleman whenever Bucky had managed to score dates for them both. But he can't remember how he himself acted when he saw a pretty girl on the street, so if he was an asshole, maybe this is his chance to rectify that.

A car horn beeps as Andrea walks down the street towards the café. A man makes a thumbs up gesture through a window of another passing car. There's not much he can do about those, not here, not without bringing attention to himself in a way he doesn't want.

A group of five teenage boys, all slightly younger than Andrea, are walking together a couple of meters behind her, three of them dragging their bikes next to them on the sidewalk. It's clear for anyone with functioning eyes that these guys are following her, and have done so for a while. One of them shouts at her to show them her boobs and this earns him laughter and cheering from his friends. Andrea rolls her eyes and speeds up even more. Another comment is shouted but Bucky doesn't hear what the boy said, because by now Andrea has reached him and she's blushing. She nods and walks right past him, through the door. Bucky was a couple of minutes early just in case (he wanted to make a good impression for once in his life), and Yolanda informed him that she had informed Andrea of his new job last evening, so the girl at least knows who he is and hopefully doesn't think he's another creep.

He positions himself right in front of the door and glares at the teenage boys for all that he's worth, blocking their path.

"Leave her alone," he mutters as soon as they're withing hearing distance.

"Who are you and why do you care?" One of them, the leader, Bucky guesses, a lanky sixteen year old kid with some kind of rash on his face, spits at Bucky.

"Just leave her alone," Bucky repeats, shifting his body weight ever so slightly in a way he knows looks threatening.

"Come on, let's just leave. The grandma is a bitch anyway," one of the other boys, one who actually appears to have some kind of intelligence in his brain, says. The leader appears to be sizing Bucky up and then makes the correct decision that he would lose, epically so, and mutters a "Whatever, let's go," to his crew, who all shuffle after him, like a pimply bunch of puppies.

Once they've reached the end of the street and have all straddled their bikes (the two without bikes straddling the racks of one bike each), the one who'd suggested they leave turn back around and shouts "Sa te fut," at him.

Huh. Maybe he was wrong about the whole intelligence thing.

He could easily reach them, he can outrun a speeding car if he wants to, but instead he just rolls his eyes. Yolanda materializes in the open door behind him, smiling.

"Good job. Usually they hang around for hours being dicks. Even after I spit in their food."

"I hope you won't spit in my food," Bucky says, because he wants Yolanda to like him and give him cake.

"As long as you don't give me a good reason to, I won't," she smiles "Now come on, if you can help me move the freezer a bit so that I can clean behind it, that be very nice. And possibly there's a reward waiting for you," she must see the brief look of panic he's sure passes over his face at the mention of the word reward, because she quickly clarifies "Cake." She looks like she's sorry and he wants to tell her that it's not her fault, it's just that reward, for him, for the last decades, usually meant something Hydra thought their soldier would enjoy, like sex. It's just, those girls they "gave" him, usually got no enjoyment out of it either, unless they were crazy enough to volunteer out of their own free will to be raped by a mess of a man who only did what his handlers told him and didn't take anyone's pleasure into the equation. From what he remembers, it wasn't a fun experience for anyone, except maybe his handlers, some of who used to clap him on his back afterward, like he'd done something good. He doesn't know what happened to those girls, but he doubts they were set free to roam the world with lots of money. Rather, he thinks, the lot of them probably ended up dying way too young. Some of them were just kids, really. Mysterious disappearances that never got solved by the cops.

He shakes the memories that threaten to cloud his mood and follows Yolanda inside.

*

"Move the freezer" turns out to mean, "Move the freezer forward by wrapping his arms around it and dragging it towards the middle of the room, but not too far because there's wires and things and it needs to still be, you know, actually freezing the stuff inside." He could probably lift the entire thing with his metal arm, but he doubts Yolanda is ready for that kind of discovery. Or that the kids are. Marius is sitting outside, in the sitting area, doing homework and Andrea is decorating cupcakes that will be on display in the window. It's vanilla cake with sprinkles and green "frosting" as Yolanda calls it. The delicious butter coffee thing on the chocolate cake is frosting too and Bucky thinks that if he could eat all the frosting in the world without getting sick, he would.

He quickly learns that Yolanda doesn't actually work at the café. Officially, she's retired. But the place is her fifth child, as she calls it, so she's here most days anyways. The one who actually owns it is Gabby, Yolanda's youngest daughter and mother of Andrea and Marius. Gabby's husband, Alexander, works as a lawyer at a fancy firm. Gabby is a fitness freak, Yolanda says, which apparently is hilarious because she owns a café and bakes cakes for a living. It's not strictly true, because, like she said, Yolanda is there most days and does most of the actual food prepping, including baking the cakes.

"It's what I always loved doing, so why should I stop just cause I'm retired? I can still do the work and I'd just get bored sitting on my bum all day. Gabby actually suggested I'd take up knitting. Me, knitting! I can't even sew a button on straight, how would I be able to sit for hours and tangle with yarn?"

Yolanda, as it turns out, talks a lot. About everything from the weather and things going on at the café, to politics and "no, no that needs more cacao" and the president of the United States. She may live in Romania now she says, but USA is still close to her heart. Three of her children and their families are still living there.

She has four children, she tells him, all daughters. Gabby was the only one who came with Yolanda and her late husband, Luca when they decided to move to his native Romania, 24 years ago. She has loads of grandchildren, and, since January this year, a great grandchild. Her granddaughter Stephanie and Stephanie's partner, Rebecca, recently adopted a little boy who they named Lucas, after Luca. Yolanda is so proud that she looks like she's about to literally burst from it. He can't help but think that maybe she's testing him, to see if he accepts the open love of someone he'll never meet. He's read enough to know that relationships between people of the same gender isn't nearly as frowned upon as they used to be, but there's still a lot of hate out there. Bucky thinks those people are stupid. Why would you wish someone else harm because of who they fall in love with? It doesn't make sense. He'd read an article about a guy, who, when his friend came out as homosexual, had asked him "Since when are you gay?" to which the boy's sister, who'd known for a while, had replied "Since birth, you dick!" Bucky doesn't know why, but the whole exchange had struck him as funny. It's one of the first things he can remember laughing about in a very long time. The Winter Soldier wasn't big on laughing, surprisingly enough.

During one of Yolanda's speeches, which Marius, looking very serious, informs Bucky he doesn't actually have to listen or respond to, which gets a laugh from his grandmother, she hands him a mop and tells him to scrub the floor because apparently it's dirty. Bucky doesn't really see any dirt, but he does what the old lady tells him to. He wants his cake, preferably soon.

When they've been cleaning for what feels like forever, with Andrea managing the cash register up front and Marius serving the various customers their ordered food and cake, Bucky's stomach rumbles so loudly he can't hide it from Yolanda. For such an old lady she has surprisingly good hearing he thinks when she turns around from where she's been obsessively scrubbing at the same spot of nonexistent dirt for the last 15 minutes.

"Why didn't you tell me you where hungry? I could've whipped something up for you," she says as if they are not surrounded by cakes and sandwiches and soup (today's special is tomato and herb. It smells divine).

"I..." he tries again, "I didn't think it..."

"Didn't think it was what? Important? Allowed? Kid, from now on you tell me when you're hungry, okay? Can't let my employes starve on the job now, can I? Now sit down and let me get you some soup."

Bucky begins to protest, because he doesn't have enough money today either and Yolanda scoffs at him, "Did we or did we not agree that you'd do work for me and in return I would feed you to the best of my abilities?

" Bucky nods in answer, because yes, that is what they agreed. She smiles, satisfied and spoons up a bowl of the divine smelling soup for him, adding half a loaf of bread with sun-dried tomatoes next to it. She sets it down on the counter, pulls out a high stool from behind a curtain and motions for him to sit down. He does.

He has seen her prepare all of this food this very afternoon (the previous batch of soup had run out during lunch rush so Yolanda had had to make some more), including the bread, so he knows it's not drugged or poisoned in any way, but he's still hesitant when he dips the spoon into the soup and takes a first taste. It tastes like the most flavorful tomato, the one who got all the sun in the yard and all of the farmer's love, exploded in his mouth, perfectly marrying all of the herbs and spices Yolanda added to it. It's the best thing he's ever eaten. Just like the leek soup last night, he inhales this one in a matter of minutes. Yolanda spoons up some more for him before he has even come up with a way of asking for more without sounding rude.

"When was the last time you ate?" she asks just as he takes a big bite out of the still warm bread. He chews enough so that his answer can actually be heard, and mumbles "breakfast."

"And what, if you don't mind me asking, did you eat for breakfast?"

"Bread."

"How much?"

"A couple of slices."

"How many?"

"Three?" It comes out like a question.

"You're telling me you ate three slices of the stale bread you took from me last night and that's it? Nothing more for the whole day? Jesus kid, no wonder you're hungry."

"I...How did..."

"How did I know you took the bread I intended to throw away last night? Honey, I've got four children and 12 grandchildren between the four of them. I developed eyes in the back of my head early on," she laughs and he feels like maybe this isn't a bad thing. Maybe he isn't about to lose his promised reward of cake.

He doesn't lose his cake. Yolanda lets him eat the entire loaf of bread, not just the one half she first gave him and then she gives him the biggest slice of chocolate cake with coffee tasting butter frosting he's ever seen. It's the biggest slice of any cake he's ever seen, period. He eats it slowly, enjoying every bite. He doesn't want it to end. Yolanda joins him with her own slice after checking on Andrea and Marius out front.

"I believe cake and things like that are good for the soul. Fruit and veggies and pasta and brown rice are all good for the body, but cake? Cake is like balm for the soul. Especially chocolate cake, but I'm not picky," she says as she cuts him another slice.

Later, when he's about to leave the café, all of the customers and the grandchildren gone because it's past closing time, Yolanda stops him and hands him a bag. "For breakfast. Actual breakfast," she says while he peers into the bag. There's some of the sun-dried tomato bread from before, a clear plastic container with butter and some cheese slices in another, slightly bigger box.

*

He eats almost the entire loaf of bred with the butter and the cheese slices the next morning. He saves some for later, remembering Yolanda's face when she realized he'd eaten nothing but stale bread for breakfast the entire day yesterday.

He works out for a couple of hours after that, on the floor of his room. Has a quick shower and then walks to the café when the clock strikes a quarter to four. And just like yesterday, Andrea comes walking down the street with the creeps behind her, yelling their clever commentary to her.

"I don't think it worked," she says once she reaches him, "but thanks for trying."

"Give me a couple more chances," he answers, watching as the group of boys slowly but surely move closer and closer. Andrea nods and disappears in through the open café door. Just like yesterday, Bucky plants himself in front of the door, blocking the group's path.

"You again? Don't you have something better to do?" the leader asks, apparently totally serious.

"No, actually I don't. How about you?"

"Huh?" the boy says and Bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"Don't you have anything better to do than yell dumb things to Andrea?" he clarifies.

"If she doesn't like it all she has to do is tell us she doesn't want to hear it," the supposedly intelligent one says.

"And you mean to tell me she hasn't repeatedly told you this?"

"Who are you anyway, her boyfriend?" the leader asks, ignoring his question, which tells him all he needs to know, and one of the other boys, one with red hair mutters "I didn't know she was into dirty old hobos. I'll have to change my whole look," and his friends snicker. This time, Bucky does roll his eyes. Hard.

"Get lost," he hisses between clenched teeth and somehow they seem to understand that he's completely serious because that actually do, yelling insults as they race down the street. He watches them until they disappear completely and then stands around a bit longer, just making sure they're really gone.

"What did they say?" Andrea asks him once he enters the kitchen.

"Nothing but stupid shit," he answers and she laughs, "Yeah, sounds like them. Assholes."

That evening he helps making food. All right, he peels the carrots for the beef, carrot, potatoes, tomato and corn stew Yolanda is making, but he feels like he does important work all the same.

This is the day he tries a new kind of cake, with almonds and caramel and so sweet it's a miracle his teeth doesn't fall out. This is also the day he meets Gabby, Gabriella, daughter of Yolanda and mother of Andrea and Marius. The fitness freak.

He almost laughs when Yolanda raises her eyebrows at him when Gabby enters the café. Gabby is dressed in what he knows is modern workout gear and she clearly ran all the way here. The first thing she does though, is steal a slice of cake which she munches on while Yolanda introduces them.

"So, you're my mother's new project and Andrea's prince charming," Gabby says and Bucky can feel himself go red.

"I'm only joking. And I don't mean no harm by calling you a project. It's just, my mother always have to do things, always sticks her nose where it doesn't belong. I'll never understand why she can't just sit on her bum like all other eighty one year olds and knit. It would make my life so much less stressful. Did you know she's been planning a road trip of the states this summer?"

Gabby talks about as much as her mother does. So with the two of them at the same time Bucky almost feels relief at entering his own quiet, empty apartment at the end of the night.

*

During the next couple of weeks, Bucky gets into a routine without really noticing it. He gets up every morning when the sun rises, or when he wakes up from that nights nightmare, whichever comes first. He spends three hours every morning working out. Then he sleeps for an hour. Eats porridge for breakfast made with oats he actually bought (Yolanda is getting to him), because Gabby told him oatmeal is good for your health, which is something he could use. According to a book he read in the library, oats can be good for your brain's health, which is definitely something he can use. He experiments with different toppings; so far he likes banana, raspberries and a tiny bit of honey the best. After breakfast he works out for another hour or two, depending on how tired he's feeling. He bought (bought!) a book about exercising at home so that he wouldn't have to join any of those super modern gym facilities that seem to be everywhere. Then he takes a quick shower and brushes his teeth. After that he usually either spends a couple of hours wandering around the city, or, if he feels particularly on edge, he checks every possible exit from his apartment 15 times in a row and looks out for suspicious characters that might be sneaking around and planning to take him in. He doesn't pack up and leave, though. It's an improvement. He never would have been able to stay this long in Madrid or Copenhagen. Not without going seriously crazy or ending up hurting some poor being because he got into his head that they'd been sent to take him down.

But every day, without fail, he begins his walk to the café the minute the old clock he found on a back street tells him it's a quarter to 4.

The group of teenage pervs have stopped following Andrea to the café every day (Bucky still waits outside until she's reached the door) so Bucky thinks that's the end of it until Andrea tells him they haven't actually stopped, they just follow her to the corner of the street on which the café is situated before taking off. Apparently they've gotten tired of "arguing" with Bucky. The day after Andrea tells him this, Bucky is leaning against a lamppost in the corner where the two streets meet. Andrea shows up on the horizon and just like she said, the assholes are following her, telling her things they think she finds flattering. Bucky sincerely hopes he was never that stupid.

One of them actually groans when he sees Bucky, like Bucky is an inconvenience. Bucky, in turn, bares his teeth and tells them to fuck off which earns him a comment that sounds suspiciously close to "fucking dog."

It becomes a thing. Bucky finds himself leaving his apartment earlier and earlier in the day, in order to make it to that day's street, before Andrea and her creepy fans get there. They move closer and closer to the school.

Andrea buys him strawberries and raspberries and blueberries and teaches him how to make Tosca cake, which is the name of the almonds and caramel cake he had during one of his first days at the café as thanks, even though his nonviolent efforts to scare the pervs away doesn't seem to be working.

"They call you my hobo boyfriend," she says one day as they're walking down the street towards the café, "and I get so mad, because you're not a hobo. You don't even look like a real hobo. Sure, you've got long hair and could probably wash it more often, no offense, but your clothes are whole and clean and you brush your teeth and you're obviously making an effort. I just...It makes me mad and they don't even pretend to listen to me when I tell them to stop."

"Thanks for trying, though," Bucky answers, remembering what she told him back when they'd first begun this little arrangement of theirs, "What about the boyfriend part?"

"The boyfriend part?" she looks confused.

"You went off on a rant about the hobo part, I just assumed there would be one about the boyfriend part too," It's not that he wants her to be his girlfriend. He's just teasing. He doesn't like her that way and even if he did she's too young for him and he's too messed up and paranoid for her. Too much baggage. But he likes teasing. He likes her laugh. Her laugh sounds like the bells he can remember from his childhood, the fancy ones his mother owned for reasons he can't remember. He wants Andrea and Marius and Gabby and Yolanda and all their relatives in america to be happy, just because. He wants them to live their whole lives in one go, the way he didn't get to.

"Nah, dude," Andrea says, "You're awesome and all, but seriously, not my type. I like 'em skinny and blonde and you're neither, sorry. And too old. And then there's the thing with your hand. Dude, what is up with your left arm that's so horrible you're always wearing a glove and long sleeves? Don't think I haven't noticed."

"I told you, there was an accident. Trust me, you don't want to see it."

"All right. Forget I asked. It's not important anyway," she shrugs and offers him another strawberry from the carton of strawberries she bought at the fruit and vegetable market they passed whilst on their way to the café.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

*

The old man he saw at the café the night Yolanda found him in her dumpster comes in everyday. His name is Sabin. Gabby, Andrea and Marius all tell Bucky, on several separate occasions, that he is Yolanda's boyfriend. Yolanda herself scoffs at this and Sabin, a widower since three years back, actually blushes, but denies it. Sabin has almost no teeth left and can therefore only drink coffee and tea and eat soup, which Yolanda, Bucky notices, makes especially for him, with extra care, served in the finest china the café has. Sabin has a kind face, with eyes that glitter and a mouth that smiles more often than not, just like Yolanda. Since it is difficult for him to make himself understood without any teeth in his mouth, Sabin always carries a notebook and several pens. What he's writing often makes Yolanda laugh, which makes Bucky smile. He likes both Sabin and Yolanda and he wants them to be happy. Preferably together.

*

The bell above the door of the café chimes every time someone comes or goes, including him. He could probably avoid the chiming and get the door opened and closed without the sound, but he likes it. The sound announces his arrival, it makes other people aware he's there, without him having to announce himself. He likes to think it makes him a person. Someone real.

*

Yolanda talks a lot. Never stops, really. Bucky is sure he knows more about her life and her family than he knows about his own at this point. She has taken to showing him photos, so that he'll know which family member she talking about this time and what they look like. His favorite photo is one that shows Maria, the second oldest daughter and her husband and their two kids, both boys, at some sort of funfair, posing for the camera with a big bag of candy they won that day. The photo is a few years old, Yolanda tells him and boy number one is now working at a local café "family business!" to get extra money through college. Boy number two is on his second year of high school.

*

"Why are you helping me?" he asks Yolanda one day. Night really. They're alone, Gabby and the kids left earlier because it's a school night, and Bucky stayed to help Yolanda close up. She looks up from where she's counting the money the café made that day. She looks serious, more serious than he's ever seen her up until this point.

"You looked so sad and exhausted and like Gabby says, I can't keep my nose out of other peoples business."

"Is that it?" "You really wanna know why?"

He nods. Sue him, he's curious.

"You're running from someone. I can tell, because I've done it myself," she straightens her back, putting the money in the safe behind the desk to be taken to the bank later in the week. She looks at him and then nods to herself.

"Go get yourself a plate of the blueberry lemon cake you like so much and sit down."

Bucky does what he's told. Once he's sat down, Yolanda joins him. "I'm gonna tell you my story, okay? There's no need for you to tell yours if you're not ready. I just thought I'd share mine so you know that you're not alone and that it does get better. And because I like the sound of my own voice."

"Okay."

"Okay. I met Chad, my first husband, when I was 18 and had just graduated high school. He was a couple of years older than me and I loved him relentlessly. We got married when I was 21. Everything was fine at first and I'd never felt more loved than I did then. But after the wedding things started to change. Chad lost his job and started drinking more and more. He became violent, was often out at the bar during the evenings, coming home black and blue from brawls he'd lost. If he'd lost, he took his anger out on me. I should've left, but I didn't. I stayed for years. I used to tell myself that hey, it'll be over soon, it's just a phase. And then, when I was 25, I got pregnant and things miraculously brightened up. Chad found a job to support the family, and the drinking stopped. At least for a while. It came back around a couple of months after Julianna was born. He always argued with me about how I should look after the kid better. Not that he did anything himself, mind you. He expected me to take care of him, the child and the house all by myself, whilst he whined about how working as a janitor at an all girls school was so difficult and destroyed his life. But still, I stayed. I stayed until he laid his hands on Julianna. I could take the beatings he gave me, but I'd be damned if I let him hit my daughter. So I left. In the middle of the day, when he was at work. Packed my bags and took Julie under my arm and went. Took a train to Washington and then to Los Angeles, just to cover my tracks a bit. I lived with a friend from high school, May, and her husband for a bit. I filed for divorce from Chad, and shockingly enough, he agreed, after a bit of back and forth. But he didn't even fight for the right to see his daughter. He assumed that I'd run away with someone else. Said he couldn't be seen taking back a cheating whore, it wouldn't be good for his reputation. I wasted nine years of my life on that man. He died a couple of years ago actually, from alcoholism. The only good thing to come out of it was Julianna."

She motions for him to eat his cake before continuing on;

"Luca and I met shortly after I divorced Chad. I was 27 years old, with a two year old kid. I lived with my friends and spent a couple of days a week cleaning hotel rooms while May babysat Julianna. Luca worked as a doorman at one of these hotels, the Knickerbocker Hotel. He came from Bucharest, and had left Romania ten years earlier, when he was 22, because of the communism. He didn't agree with the government and the politics and so on and found it best to just leave all of it behind and get out while he had the chance. So he ended up in America. We began a relationship in September that year. He knew I had a daughter even if he didn't meet her until six months later. I wanted to make sure he wasn't gonna run for the hills, you see. Or think that it was too much work, or decide he couldn't be with a woman who had a child with another man and was divorced. But he never did. He never treated Julianna as anything but his own flesh and blood, even though anyone with eyes could see she wasn't his. We got married in '64, two years after we met. It was a small wedding, considering my family was on the other side of the country and his was all in Romania. May and her husband, Greg, came though. Julianna was the bridesmaid. Maria was born that year. And then came Elena, in 1966. By that time Luca was working as a journalist at a newspaper and I was at home, with the kids. Gabriella was born in 1971. A couple of years later, I got a job at a diner, working in the kitchen and discovered I really enjoyed working with food professionally. I've always loved cooking and baking, but it never occurred to me before that diner that it was something I could do professionally. At least to a degree," she smiles, a sad smile.

"We moved to Bucharest in 1992, about two years after communism fell. Luca missed his family something terrible, he hadn't really seen them since the '50's and I felt like I could do with a change, so I agreed that it was a good idea to at least try. Gabriella was 21 that year and wanted to see the world, so she came with us. Julianna, Maria and Elena all stayed behind. They had lives of their own going at that point, school and boys who'd hopefully become husbands some day down the line. One did. The rest didn't. My mother in law, bless her heart, was 89 years old when we arrived. It was the first time she'd met any of her grandchildren from Luca. She and Gabby formed a bond, they really did. Was an absolute tragedy when she died three years later. The funny thing is, it took us by surprise. She was 92 years old and we never really entertained the thought that she'd die one day. It just didn't occur to us that this funny old lady could disappear from earth life one day, just like that."

"In 2000, eight years after we moved here, I was bored out of my mind. Luca had found a job that he enjoyed, but I didn't. I worked as a cleaning lady once again, this time all day all week and I didn't enjoy it, not one bit. One day, as I was walking home after work, I stumbled across a for sale sign outside this little shop here. So I got this crazy idea and walked in on the spot and asked how much they were willing to sell for. And then I went home and talked to Luca about it. One of the great things about that man was that he never shot me down until after he'd heard what I had to say. He always listened to me, no matter what nonsense I was on about. So I told him about this little shop I'd found and how I would like to buy it and turn it into a café and sell my food professionally. And he agreed that I should at least try, so I did. I bought it, changed all the things that needed changing which took a while and almost made me regret buying it in the first place, if I'm honest with you. Then I employed Gabby to help me out as a cashier, and we were off."

"I retired earlier than I probably should have because, as you know, I'm still here most days. Luca was too, sat in that very chair you're sitting in every day from his retirement began until he keeled over one day, seven years ago, halfway through a piece of my chocolate cake. I'm sad he's gone and I miss him every day, but like Julianna says, at least he died happy. He loved my chocolate cake. Often said that if he had to chose something to eat everyday for the rest of his life, he'd chose my cake."

"I know you might think I'm crazy and old and boring for telling you this little tale of mine, but what I want you to take from it, if you want, is that things really can get better, it really can turn around, whatever shitty thing is going on in your life. Just look at me. I began with a drunken, violent brute of a man and I ended up with a lovely kindhearted one, a man who never took me for granted. I've got a big family that I love and who loves me back. I've got this café, I'm doing what I love. Life is good."

"And you've got Sabin."

"And I've got Sabin."

*

Bucky, because he has no better things to do, and he wants to redeem himself from all the horrible things he's done, actually ends up outside of Andrea's school one day, a couple of minutes before the end of the school day. He's standing just outside the open gates, leaning against the fence when he sees a man he recognizes as the one teacher Andrea really dislikes, if not hates, coming towards him. The man is bald, his head shiny like the apple Bucky ate the other day and he's wearing a suit.

"Hey you! Stop loitering on the school grounds!" the man shouts as he gets closer. Bucky looks down at his own feet, which are both clearly planted on this side of the gate, and therefore not on the school grounds.

"Not on 'em," he mutters as the man comes to a stop in front of him. Up close he smells like day old sweat and some very powerful cologne, probably worn to hide the sweat smell.

"What are you doing here then?" the man asks.

"Waiting for Andrea."

"Andrea who?"

"Andrea."

"Yes, I got that. But there's more than one Andrea at this school."

Bucky stares at the teacher, saying nothing. The man stares right back, a vein pulsing in the middle of his forehead. He has begun to reach the stage of tomato red shade on his cheeks when the doors to the school open. Children of all ages come running out, soon surrounding them from all sides. Some go for their bikes, some set off down the street like there's fire behind them. Some walk in a more dignified manner. Some walk with friends, some alone.

The teacher and Bucky are still silently staring at each other when Andrea comes through the door, trying to get her bag to close. When she looks up, just in time for her pervy fan club to make their entry, she gasps.

"James!" she calls as she races down the stairs toward the two men standing on either side of the invisible line by the gates. Both turn to look at her once she reaches them.

"You know this man?" the teacher asks her, flailing his hands and almost hitting Bucky in the face.

"Yes I do, Mr Ciocan," Andrea says. By now the pervs have reached them too, not really knowing if they should begin their usual tirade of insults and "compliments" in front of a teacher or not.

"What is he doing here then?" Bald teacher asks Andrea and then turns to Bucky, "We have a strict policy here at this school, James. If we see anyone suspicious loitering on the school grounds we are encouraged to inform the police..."

"Still not on them," Bucky mutters just as one of the boy's pipes up. It's the red headed one.

"He's Andrea's boyfriend, sir!"

"He's not!" Andrea shouts.

"Sure he is. Your hobo boyfriend."

"Are you her boyfriend?" Bald teacher is now ignoring his students in favor of staring at Bucky, "Really?"

"No. I'm not," Bucky grins and holds out his hand towards Andrea, who takes it, squeezing.

"I'm just here because she's my friend and those guys over there won't leave her the fuck alone with their harassment. I thought I could get them to stop being dicks, but apparently I can't."

Bucky starts walking away, more or less dragging Andrea behind him, the moment the teacher turns to the pervs, who actually do look the tiniest bit ashamed to have been called out on their shittiness.

Andrea, who looks dazed and confused for about two streets, Bucky still dragging her along, makes him stop at a tiny shop and buy strawberries and chocolate biscuits. Once they reach the café, she teaches him how to make chocolate cheesecake, served with fresh strawberries. It's the best thing he's ever eaten.

*

He doesn't just eat cakes, though. He's actually begun to try cooking for himself, back at his safe house. Gabby is always going on about how homemade cooking is much much better than stuff you buy at restaurants and fast food places, and not just because it's often much healthier. She points out that if you cook at home, you always know what's in the food. Bucky doesn't think she means it in a bad "it might have been poisoned" way, but he takes her words to heart anyway. He trusts himself and the people at the café not to have drugged or poisoned the food, but he's not so sure about others. Anyone else could be Hydra, or some other enemy. So either eating at the café or making his food on his own is the only way to go.

He tries to eat mostly fruit and vegetables because it's good for the brain. You can buy them fresh from supermarkets and shops and there's a market every Saturday that Yolanda usually drags him along to. She spends all their time there pointing out different things he should try, things she thinks he'd like.

"I eat a lot of fruit and veggies, to help my brain be healthy. It might sound like I'm just a crazy old lady but I have memory problems sometimes, short-term things that began years ago, after Chad banged my head against a wall one time. I can remember what happened 20 years ago just fine, but sometimes I'm a little fuzzy on the details about what happened 20 minutes ago. But it's much better now than what it used to be and I fully believe that my eating fruits and veggies are the cause of that. Avocado, leafy greens, plums, blueberries. I eat a lot of fish too. And oatmeal and sunflower seeds. Those are good for just snacking on if you're feeling hungry."

*

It's a Saturday and he's buying plums from the market. Yolanda had stayed behind at the café, busy baking cakes for the biggest wedding cake Bucky is sure he'll ever see. There's something different in the air today, something that tastes foul in his mouth. He quickly checks the space around him out, but it's filled with customers and vegetables as usual.

By the time he's finished buying his plums and is walking down the street he feels seriously on edge. Something's happening and he doesn't like it one bit. A man selling newspapers takes one look at him and runs. Bucky can't decide if he's just being paranoid or if something's really wrong, but he walks up to the newsstand anyway, just to check. What meets him is the front page of today's newspaper, with his own face staring back at him, accusing him of a bombing in Vienna that killed the king of Wakanda. The only thought echoing around in his head is if it really had been him, would he really have been stupid enough to get himself caught on a security camera like that?

*

Yolanda holds up a copy of the newspaper the minute he enters the kitchen.

"This is you, is it not?" She doesn't seem scared or angry, just sad, but Bucky can't help but notice that she's the only one there. The kids, who usually spends almost all of their weekends at the café are nowhere to be found. Nor is Gabby, but that's not unusual. She spends her Saturday mornings doing some aerobics class at her gym.

"I don't... I didn't do it," he says, silently begging her to believe him. He doesn't want to have to disappear again. He likes his life here, the people at this café, he even likes his apartment. He doesn't want Yolanda to kick him out. He doesn't want her to be scared of him.

"Of course you didn't. You where here all day that day, weren't you?" Yolanda says with a smile that doesn't fully reach her eyes, "There's no way you could have been in Vienna, killing the king of Wakanda and several other people, at the same time you were here, baking cupcakes."

"I..."

"I don't know about you, but I've read this article. Several times while you were out. Anyone who could use their eyes and ears know about that whole thing with Shield being Hydra, the internet dump, Captain America and the Avengers. This article, and all the others back when it happened, mentioned that Hydra used an assassin called the Winter Soldier to do some of their dirtier work for them. No one really knew what happened to him or who he really was, but let me tell you, I never thought I'd end up with said assassin baking cakes in my little café, but strange things do happen in this world."

"How did you know?" Bucky feels almost calm now, knowing that it's all right. If he needs to run, get out, he can do that, without hurting Yolanda.

"I didn't, not until I read the paper today. Your face staring back at me and all. I didn't want to believe it at first, but he has an arm made of metal and you're always hiding yours, so..."

"They... They forced me to kill people. I didn't even remember it until a couple of months ago, but I still did it."

"I know. There was kill list in the paper back then. A list of people they thought you might have killed."

"This, and Vienna, it means I have to run."

"No it doesn't. You can stay here, with us. I may just be an old lady, but we can protect you. You haven't done this."

"If they find me here, with you. That would destroy you... Andrea and Marius. It would destroy your café. And I'd hate myself for it," Bucky reaches for the bag of plums he dropped on the floor when he first entered the room, "I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done for me. If you hate me I understand, I've done a lot of horrible things."

"You idiot, I don't hate you. You're innocent, kid. The James I've gotten to know would never intentionally hurt anyone and you said yourself you can't remember."

"Thank you,"

"Nothing to thank me for. I only did what any decent human being would've done. Now, if you really feel the best thing for you to do is leave, then do so. I think you should stay, but that's up to you. You're the one in danger here."

"I should leave."

Yolanda catches him by his elbow when he's halfway through the door and draws him in, hugging him hard, so he feels like he'll break.

"Then do it. But promise me you'll come by and visit an old lady sometime, all right? It's been good for all of us, I think, having you around."

"I will, promise. I'll be here when you and Sabin finally get your acts together and get married. I'll even be the best man."

Yolanda laughs and it's the best thing Bucky's ever heard.

He really does owe this little old lady and her family everything he's got.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ciorbă de praz = Leek Soup.
> 
> Sa te fut = Fuck you. (According to google).


End file.
